


Primroses

by cowboykylux



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gardener Kylo Ren, Love Confessions, Maid Reader, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25406848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: He wants to see you, that’s all. Just to see you for a moment, a glimpse of you through a cracked door perhaps, an open curtain maybe. He finds that the birds chirp sweeter and the sunrise is more beautiful, for it means he has another day on this Earth, another day on this estate to be near to you.It is February 14th in the good year 1854, and he is hell-bent on this being the day he makes you his.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Primroses

With the sun shining over his head, and the soft breeze gently sweeping his hair across his forehead, Kylo smiles down at his hands as he works. He’s in the garden as he usually is, maintaining the Lord and Lady’s fine estate, but today is different. Today he’s asked for a few moments of break, only a few. Just long enough to deliver a small gift to you. Oh he has such a good feeling about today, such a light in his chest – a feeling which he has never once felt before, not the way he does when he thinks of you. His hands are filthy, dirt caked up to his wrists as he takes the small trowel and removes some fresh flowers from the soil, transfers them to the small decorative pots as he’s been instructed.

He wants to see you, that’s all. Just to see you for a moment, a glimpse of you through a cracked door perhaps, an open curtain maybe. He’s sure he won’t be able to speak to you, you’re far too busy, he knows. So it’s enough to see you and leave you a small something, a simple gesture of his affections.

Because oh, how he is so affectionate of you! He finds that the birds chirp sweeter and the sunrise is more beautiful, for it means he has another day on this Earth, another day on this estate to be near to you. It is February 14th in the good year 1854, and he is hell-bent on this being the day he makes you his.

He finishes potting the flowers and walks down the long path to the bothy, where he goes about tidying up his appearance. He spends a good long while scrubbing at his hands, clearing his nails of dirt as best he can from the water pump outside. By the fire, he removes his work jacket and instead buttons up the corduroy vest and woolen cardigan – it might not be Sunday, but still he felt the need to wear his absolute best. It wasn’t much, but it was hopefully enough, hopefully enough to impress you, to make you smile.

Combing his hair and putting on his cap before grabbing a bite of bread and cheese on his way out, he snips a few primroses from the newly potted bundle he’s prepared. The Lady won’t notice, nor would she mind, he thinks. He carries four small flowers in his hand and cradles them to his chest as he travels the long distance from the bothy to the main house, where he knocks on the door.

“How may I help you?” The gruff butler asks, a raised eyebrow of suspicion at the sight of Kylo, who is hastily hiding something behind his back.

“I was hoping Miss (Y/N) would have a moment, sir.” Kylo nearly trips over his tongue, having had practiced all the words in his head all morning, he had hoped he’d be better than this, but still. The nerves of your possible rejection had him more than a little frayed, and he rushes to add that it really will be, “Just a moment.”

 **“Shouldn’t you be with the Garden Master, your uncle Luke?”** The butler regards him, and Kylo wants to snap that he’s fully aware of what he should be doing – but if he snaps at the butler, the chance of him seeing you will go from slim to none.

“Yes sir, he’s given me permission to only be gone a short while.” He says instead, his palm sweaty where his fingers are twirling the primroses behind his back, hidden from the butler’s view. “I won’t take up too much of Miss (Y/N)’s time, I promise, sir.”

“I’ll fetch her for you.” The butler says eventually, closing the door in Kylo’s face rather abruptly.

His heart leaps when the door opens again, for you are standing on the other side of it. You, with your simple woolen dress and apron, your white cap that hides your pretty hair. You are so beautiful, so clean and soft, not endlessly covered in soil and grass stains the way Kylo seems to always be. Your work is not easy, this Kylo knows – but he can’t help think how lovely you are, even with your face flushed from the afternoon’s sweeping, even with dust smeared on your apron. 

Because oh, the way your face lights up with excitement, the way your eyes brighten and your smile widens and you give him such a look of adoration, why you could have been covered in muck and grime and soot from the chimney from head to toe and he’d still think you gorgeous.

“Mr. Ren!” You greet him happily, that smile of yours piercing his very soul.

“Hello, Miss. (Y/N).” Kylo says as he bows, for he is of lower rank than you, not that rank matters much between the help.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You make him smile by giving a curtsy, a sign of respect that he does not deserve, too lowly to have earned.

“I came by to give you this.” He says, removing his hand from behind his back.

And this is the scary bit, he thinks. This is the bit that he’s worked himself up for all day, this is the part where you may very well say no and crush his hopes and dreams and he would spend the rest of his days mourning a love unreturned.

“Will you accept it?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper, as he presents the flowers to you, the small little bundle.

They’re slightly wilted now, having endured the walk from the bothy to the main house, and a little bruised. He realizes in horror that he didn’t do a very good job of washing his hands, as there is still dirt under his nails and in the creases of his palm. He is suddenly so painfully embarrassed of his own state, that he nearly turns to flee, but your delicate palm rests atop his knuckles, and he snaps his gaze up to your eyes which are filling with tears.

“Yes.” You nod, soft and sweet and so wonderfully beautifully finally his, “Yes, I daresay I will.”


End file.
